the a-z of lily and raphael
by ARandomFangirler
Summary: 26 drabbles/flash fics based on every letter of the alphabet for lily and raphael.


Apples:

"If you throw that at me, I'll revoke your second in command privileges for a month," Raphael threatened. Lily, holding the apple with practiced aim, tilted her head consideringly. "Even worse, I'll make you talk to the Daylighter."

"Huh," Lily said. "You drive a mean bargain."

She threw the apple at his head anyway.

Braids:

"No, no, you're doing it all wrong," Lily said, shaking her hair out of Raphael's hands. "Like this, see?"

"I don't," Raphael stated. "How will this be useful, Lily?"

"It's like learning to tie a tie," Lily rolled her eyes. She began to braid her long hair with easy precision, and waved it at him. "It's an important life skill."

"I'm undead," Raphael said.

Lily's mouth curled up into a smile. "Even better. You have so long to practice."

Carstairs:

"I reckon it's something in their genes," Lily mused. There was a glazed look upon her face as she stared after Brother Zachariah with unashamed thirst - and not the vampire kind. "Have you met another Carstairs, Raph?"

"You must know that the answer is no," he told her. "Besides, I do not see the attraction myself."

"Of course you don't," Lily sighed, almost inaudible. Her chin was propped up on her pale hand, and her fingers glinted with silver rings in the moonlight. "Your loss. All the more Climb-me-like-a-flight-of-stairs for me, then."

"That was horrible," he winced.

"I know."

Dagger:

"Pretty, isn't it?" Lily said. There was a singular silver throwing dagger in her hand, and she was examining it with open curiosity. "I don't care for Nephilim, but they make nice weapons."

"Put that thing down, Lily," he sighed. Raphael was, above all, irritated that said Nephilim had gotten away. "The sun will be up soon."

"I think I'm going to learn how to use it," Lily declared. "Perhaps I'll practice on you."

"Practice on Elliott," Raphael said. "Serves him right for thinking that mundie was Zeke."

Eternity:

"When you live forever, nothing is permanent," Lily told him. It was his mother's funeral, and Raphael thought he was going to be sick. The cross around his throat burned more than ever. "It's the first lesson in being immortal."

"Shut up, Lily," he growled.

"It gets easier," she whispered. Her eyes were very bright. "Time heals all wounds. I promise."

Flying:

"I'm going to fall," Raphael told Lily plainly. "I'm going to fall, and I'm going to drag you down with me."

Lily laughed, delighted, and revved the vampire bike louder. They were soaring over the East River, and Raphael thought that she was having altogether far too much fun. "Relax!" she yelled. "Doesn't this beat moping with Ragnor?"

"Ragnor and I do not mope!" Raphael yelled back. "At least Ragnor does not try to get me killed."

Lily whooped. "Have a little faith! I haven't even gotten to max height yet!"

Giggling:

"Lily, stop laughing," Raphael groaned. It was nearing midday, and he hadn't slept a wink. "Lily!"

"I'm sorry," she said, solemn for a moment, before dissolving into giggles again. "I can't stop thinking about Elliott being bitten by that mundane as a rat. Oh, God."

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain," Raphael said primly.

Unfortunately, Lily began to laugh again.

Hurrying:

"We're late," Lily called, banging on his bedroom door. "We might actually have to run."

"I told you to hurry up," Raphael called back. "But it was all, _no, Raphael, I have to dye my hair tonight._ Whose fault is that?"

"Yours," Lily said stubbornly. "Now hurry, or by the time we get there it'll be daybreak."

Ignorance:

"She's into you," Lily whispered in Raphael's ear. She got no response. "Raphael. Look."

"Well, I'm not into her," Raphael sniffed. The _her_ in question was a pretty faerie waitress, her long blonde hair hanging down her back like seaweed. Lily sighed loudly.

"You're not into much, are you?" she asked him. Raphael didn't respond. "Figures."

Her voice cracked. He wasn't sure why.

Jello

"Eating that stuff will make you sick," Raphael reminded her. Lily, stuffing her face with red jello squares, stuck her tongue out at him. "I will laugh at you."

"It's made with blood, stupid," she said, her voice muffled. A sliver of jello was caught in her fangs. "I saw it on the internet. Not with blood, obviously, but I'm a masterchef so I improvised. Want some?"

It was smeared all over Lily's chin, like the innards of a popped zit.

"No, thank you."

Knowledge:

"I heard you were very wise," Raphael began conversationally. Lily was sitting on what might've been a windowsill of the Dumont, in another life, with a book propped open on her lap. "So why are you so stupid sometimes?"

"I'm not stupid," Lily said on autopilot. She turned a page delicately. "I just know how to have fun."

"That's a curious definition of fun," Raphael said. "Would you like a dictionary?"

Lily shook her head. "Nah. The monster is just about to eat the bad guy. Maybe we should get a monster to eat you."

Raphael groaned so loudly that it woke up the rest of the Dumont.

Lightwood:

"I can't believe he's dating a Shadowhunter," Raphael shook his head in frustration. Lily eyed him warily. "I mean, I knew he was stupid - anyone who wears that much hair gel must be stupid - but-"

Lily, who was quite fond of Magnus's many parties as well as his copious amounts of styling products, held her hands up. "Whoa, there, chief. Didn't you say you didn't want to talk about it? Or think about it? I explicitly remember you saying both of those things. Several times, actually."

Raphael reached for the cell phone he kept in his pockets for emergencies and possibly his one true love, Ragnor Fell. "A Lightwood at that," Raphael said, as if Lily was supposed to know what that meant. "A Lightwood who's twelve!"

"I'm pretty sure he's not twelve," Lily said, because she was very good at knowing the difference between twelve year olds and not-twelve year olds. Alec was decidedly not twelve. "If you're blabbing to Ragnor, does this mean Elliott can tell his little faerie friend about what we saw?"

"Which faerie friend?" Raphael asked. He was struggling somewhat with the phone.

"I don't know," Lily said. "He has rather a lot. Point is…"

She trailed off. Raphael put the phone down.

"No," he decided. "He can't."

Money:

"Do you know anything about money? Taxes? Stocks?" Lily demanded, somehow still with all the fervour of someone who _hadn't_ witnessed the Wall Street Crash firsthand. Raphael shook his head. "God, what _is_ mundie education these days?"

"Exactly," Raphael murmured. "What happened to teaching the Church?"

Lily gave him a scathing look.

"I'm going to teach you investment banking," she said. "You'll be good at it. Heartless as you are."

"Fun," Raphael yawned.

"Exactly."

Nostalgia:

"Favourite decade, go," Lily said. There were many cries of ' _80s!,_ a few ' _70s_ , and one edgelord who said _the 1890s._ Raphael didn't answer, and Lily turned to him expectantly. "Raph?"

"I'm not interested in playing drinking games," he said. Lily scoffed.

"It's not even a drinking game," she argued. He gave her a stern look. "Yet."

"Well, I don't have a favourite decade," Raphael declared. "All this nostalgia rots your brains. Living in the past does none of you any good."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That's a funny way of saying the '50s."

Olympics:

"Are you always this unbearable when anything good happens with China?" Raphael hollered, exasperated. Lily was dancing and carnivalling with all the other Asian-American New Yorkers in Harlem, and her hair flew out like a long, tantalising ribbon behind her. Beijing had just been chosen as the venue of choice for the 2008 Olympics, and Lily was oddly pleased.

"No!" Lily laughed, spinning a girl who looked only a little older than Raphael around with careless ease. "Have some fun! Free drinks!"

"You know I don't drink!" he yelled back, and Lily winked.

"Exactly! What a great time to start, right?" Lily planted a kiss on the cheek of a delighted-looking older gentleman. Raphael huffed, squared his shoulders, and prepared for a long night of Lilysitting.

Secretly, he was quite pleased.

Percussion:

"Lily, you are one of the smartest people I know, so I know that I shouldn't have to tell you that you can't play the drums," Raphael winced. Lily and Elliott, manning a drumkit and a threatening-looking electric guitar respectively, stuck their tongues out at him in a blatant show of disrespect. "Camille wouldn't put up with this noise."

"Yeah, well, she's _travelling_ ," Elliott chortled. He strummed his guitar rather badly, sending a loud feedback loop echoing through the Dumont. "Lily and I are starting a band."

"We're gonna name it _Angry Vampire Latino_ , after you," Lily said cheerfully. Her drumsticks were still poised over the drumkit. "You know, so you don't feel left out."

Raphael was a vampire, and vampires did not get headaches, but there was definitely a dull throbbing behind his temples.

"I would love to feel left out," he said slowly. "I've never wanted to be more left out of anything in my life. And Lily, you _still_ can't play the drums."

"Sure I can," Lily said. She bashed the cymbal as if to prove her point. "I just can't do it _well_."

Queen:

"Check," Lily said smugly, taking Raphael's queen. Raphael moved out of check with practiced ease, and Lily's mouth fell open.

"Checkmate."

Reaper

"You have a terrible bedside manner," Raphael said as he came to. Lily, hovering over him and painted black and silver in the thin light, dropped the bowl of dittany she was holding. Her lashes were wet and heavy with tears. "What are you crying for?"

"You're a terrible patient," she sniffed, all char and ice. "I thought you were dead. I thought the reaper had come for you. Do you really expect me to lead the clan by myself?"

"Of course not," Raphael coughed, sitting up. His head was woozy, but he felt otherwise fine. "That's why you have the others."

Lily wiped her cheeks.

"But they're not you," she whispered.

Spider:

"You can't still be scared of spiders," Raphael said. Lily jerked her chin at him. "Lily, you're a vampire. You drink blood."

"Get rid of it, or I'll break the wall," she said shakily. Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose, and swiftly stepped on it.

Teeth:

"Raphael, do you think vampires can get tooth decay?"

"Go back to sleep."

A pause.

"Right, but what if _I_ have tooth decay?"

"Lily!"

Underground:

"You should use the London Underground," Lily said. She was both talking to Raphael and simultaneously making eyes at some dark-skinned mundane girl. "It's the prissy version of the subway."

Raphael, who had visited London before and knew this not to be true, raised his eyebrows. "You can drive," he reminded her. "Maybe you should do that instead of recommending public transport."

"Cars lack character," Lily shrugged. She glanced back at the mundie. "Don't you agree, sweetie?"

The mundane looked in between Raphael and Lily.

"Knock it off, Lily," Raphael said, and Lily giggled.

"This is our stop anyway."

They hopped off the subway with usual supernatural grace, and Raphael levelled Lily with a serious look. "You have got to stop using the _encanto_ on mundanes," he said. "And I know you've never been on the Underground."

"But it's so fun!" Lily yelped.

Violet:

"Have you seen Magnus's new hair?" Lily yelled, jumping up into the Dumont with Elliott hot on her heels. "Do you think it's supposed to be that purple?"

Raphael had a brief, painful flashback of Magnus's bleach-blonde phase.

"Probably," he said. "What were you doing out? The sun only just set."

"Crashed at Magnus's," Lily said. "Saw that Lightwood boy. He's definitely not twelve."

"Well, I'm glad we've finally got that sorted," Raphael sighed. "We have paperwork to do. Lee bit a werewolf. _Again._ "

"Ugh," Lily groaned. "I'd rather talk about Magnus's new hair. Really, what was he thinking?"

"Lily," Raphael said sternly, and Lily dragged her feet towards the desk. "Come on."

Walks:

"I feel like a dog," Lily scowled as Raphael led her through Central Park at night. She liked the way the pale faeries seemed even whiter in the moonlight, liked the way the dappled trees seemed monstrous under the cover of darkness. "Why am I under house arrest again?"

"Drugged blood," Raphael reminded her, and Lily scowled again. "Don't look at me like that. You're lucky you're even outside at all. I told you to come with me to London."

"London peaked in the 1900s," Lily said, with a tone that suggested they'd had this conversation many times before. "It seemed fun. I didn't know that it'd end up like it did."

She allowed her scuffed patent high heels to drag along the gravel path, revelling in the cool air on her skin. Raphael was right - she was lucky to be out before all the others, lucky not to be laying half-dead in a pool of her own vomit. "I'm not loyal to her anymore," she said suddenly. "After that-"

"Don't talk stupid, Lily," Raphael snapped, but she thought perhaps there was a softness in his sharp features. "I wouldn't want to hear talks of a leadership challenge within the Downworlder gossip circles."

"Right, and you won't," Lily said. "For you, I'll keep quiet."

He smiled at her, blinding. Lily's heart trembled in the cavity where it lay dead.

"Come on," she said gruffly. "You're right. I don't wanna get caught walking around by werewolves."

She told herself that it wasn't so he couldn't see the strange expression on her face.

Xenophobia:

"Let's sift through today's fanmail," Lily beamed, sitting down next to Raphael on the old decrepit velvet couch. "Oo, go back to where you come from. Creative."

She was, of course, flicking through photos of the graffiti adorning the Dumont's exterior walls. Raphael rolled his eyes at her. "I don't see the point," he said.

"Do you think it's directed at me or you?" Lily mused, ignoring him. "I mean, I do have my stunning East Asian looks…"

"Lily," he said, and she looked at him through her eyelashes. "Why do you care?"

She gave a funny little half-shrug, a shadow of a smile. "Someone has to," she said. "I'm gonna paint over it. Maybe I'll be better at painting than I am the drums."

"It shouldn't be very difficult," Raphael said. "You are abominable at the drums."

"You say abominable, I say raw talent," Lily tilted her head. "I think a nice royal blue will do. Very 20s. Should block out the '20s era racism quite nicely."

He could see high colour on her cheeks.

"Ah," he said.

Yacht:

"You did not steal a yacht," Raphael said. "Lily, you did not steal a yacht."

"You're right," Lily said. "Elliott stole the yacht, I just told him to do it."

"Lily!"

"Raphael!"

Zzz:

"Lily," Elliott said very gently. "Come on."

Lily was asleep. It was a nice dream. Raphael was there, and so was Alec, and she thought perhaps they were in Idris, with its glass towers and green, green grass. She didn't want to wake up. If she woke up, she'd have to face the world again.

"Lily," Elliott repeated, and her eyes flew open. "You were screaming again."

"I wasn't," Lily whispered. "It was a nice dream. A good dream. For a minute-"

"Alec's here," he said. "He wants to talk to you. Are you coming?"

Raphael's face dissolved behind Lily's eyelids like sugar in sweet tea. She bit her lip.

"Yeah," she said. "Alright."


End file.
